


Once Upon A Dream

by gaymumbling



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 3racha are cousins, Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M, Songfic, everyone is a panicked gay tbh, i uwud on more than one occasion while writing this, jisung and minho are both crown princes, kind of a soulmate au but like really loosely, minho and jeongin are brothers, the plot is based on once upon a dream from sleeping beauty, theres gay ballroom dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 21:23:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15693654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaymumbling/pseuds/gaymumbling
Summary: “Fine, sit in a corner and scowl in your Crown Prince regalia all night.” Jeongin said, moving to leave the room. “Don’t forget, the Crown Prince from that other kingdom will be here tonight. You may have some competition.”all you need to know: minsung + royalty au = one of the gayest things i have ever written





	Once Upon A Dream

Every resident of the castle always looked forward to the annual celebration the royal family put on. All of the best decorations were spread throughout the castle, the tapestries were cleaned, fresh candles were placed in every room, hallway, and corner, and the family and their staff alike dressed in their best clothes. The King and his Queen wore their crowns, the Prince carried his rapier, and the Crown Prince -- well, the Crown Prince was the exception to the rule. Minho was the only one in the castle who dreaded the first night of the celebration, the one with all of the people and dancing and fuss.

He dressed up, sure, because he knew he looked ravishing in his formal wear; he knew that the deep purple jacket adorned with silver buttons and epaulettes intricately strung with sparkling beads contrasted beautifully with his pale skin, that the decorative ropes and tassels draped and knotted over his chest and shoulders accentuate his dark eyes and black hair. But as a Crown Prince almost coming of age with a father about to step down, Minho was dreading the last celebration before he had to be King and actually participate in the political side of the gathering. Sure, he knew his father always had a good time at the parties and in the future Minho could take some liberties from tradition and allow more time in the schedule for dancing and less for politics, but he didn’t want his time as first in line to end.

Not to mention the crowds of people that flocked to the castle.

As Crown Prince, Minho was used to interacting with people, but generally his meetings consisted of ten or twelve people (including his father, guard, and occasionally his younger brother) at a long table in a room lined with books. The annual celebration had hundreds of people all over the castle, most of which were royalty from other kingdoms and queendoms looking for someone to marry their son or daughter.

As Crown Prince, that someone was often Minho.

But he wanted nothing to do with that aspect of the celebration. He just wanted to eat, drink, and be merry, not married. Maybe being the heir to his father’s kingdom and fortune was not the best place to have these beliefs, but the romantic in Minho believed that marriage should be for love, not wealth or power.

Minho was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at his bedroom door.

“Who is it?” He called, removing the pillow from his face.

“Jeongin!” The person behind the door replied. Minho’s younger brother entered the room, already in his finery for the evening, his hair and makeup not yet done.

“What do you want,” Minho said once the door was closed again. “And don’t tell me Mom is nagging you to nag me to get dressed. We all know I can be ready like that,” he said, snapping his fingers and laying back down on the bed.

“Look, I know you don’t like parties,” Jeongin started, while Minho glared at him from the corner of his eye, “but at least humor everyone and pretend to be enthused.”

“Fat chance.”

“Maybe enthused is too much. Pretend to be engaged.” Minho continued to glare. “Oops, marriage pun, my bad. Bad choice of words. You know what I  _ mean _ -”

“Yes, I know what you  _ mean _ , but that doesn’t mean I want to  _ partake _ -”

“Fine, sit in a corner and scowl in your Crown Prince regalia all night.” Jeongin said, moving to leave the room. “Don’t forget, the Crown Prince from that other kingdom will be here tonight. You may have some competition.”

Minho rolled his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair before grabbing the pillow to put back over his face. It was not yet noon. 

It was going to be a long day.

 

After waking from a nap he wasn’t planning on taking, Minho bathed and set to work making himself presentable. He changed into a freshly steamed white button down, sat patiently while an assistant made his eyes pop, cheeks flush, and lips plump with makeup, and slipped into his fancy jacket. He reached up to the top shelf of his closet to grab his best shoes -- black, shiny, and with just enough of a heel so they clicked on the stone floors of the castle. He looked in the full-length mirror on the wall, ran his hands through his hair, and was ready with a few minutes to spare.

Dinner wouldn’t be for at least another couple hours after the party officially started, so Minho made his way down to the kitchens to see what kind of late lunch he could bargain from the chefs. He passed by Jeongin’s door, and just as he was thinking he would get by without his little brother following him, he heard the heavy wooden door creak open.

“Alright, come on,” Minho said, turning slightly so he could see his brother better. “I’m going to find a snack, want to come?”

Jeongin nodded excitedly and grinned as he jogged to catch up with the elder. They made quite the pair sauntering down the hallway in their matching purple jackets, the same except Jeongin’s didn’t have the intricate ropes and his epaulettes were not quite as fancy.

The two boys made their way toward the kitchens, bantering softly between them, Jeongin jumping from stone to stone like hopscotch. As they got closer, they could smell the soup, bread, and meat cooking in preparation for the celebration and their mouths began to water. When they passed the faulty sconce on the left side of the hall, boys shared a glance, took off running down the corridor, and burst through the swinging double doors.

“Woah-oh, looks like Jeongin won this one!” The head chef said. “You get first pick, kid.”

Jeongin’s expression turned to a wolfish grin as he looked around the vast kitchen, and grabbed the end of a few loaves of bread and stabbed a fork through a piece of meat that was discarded for being too small. He took a bite and sighed.

“Oh, goodness,” he said with his mouth full, “heavenly as always, Woojin!”

“The pleasure is all mine, kid.” The chef bowed slightly at the compliment. “Alright Minho, your pick.”

Minho quickly grabbed a piece of meat from the same plate as Jeongin’s, and ladled himself a small bowl of soup to carry with him through the winding halls to the ballroom. He tore off some of the meat and had a similar reaction to his brother’s. Woojin took the compliments and sent the boys on their way, as there was still much to do in preparation. 

“I’m sure you’ll just love the desserts I have planned for the night!” He called after them as the brothers left the kitchen, chomping and chewing on their goods. Minho raised his meat-filled fork in response and Jeongin turned to smile and wave.

They made their way back up to their rooms to put the finishing touches on their looks for the night and to relax a bit before the throngs of people would be coming through the gates to socialize and celebrate. Minho closed his door and sat on his bed, staring at his reflection in the toes of his shoes. His hair was falling just where he wanted it, his makeup was perfectly in place, but he still felt like something was missing.

Minho was startled from his trance by the bell in his room ringing, a signal from his mother that the guests were starting to arrive. He gingerly stood up, brushed nonexistent dust from the front of his jacket, and picked up his delicate crown from its display in the corner of his room. Looking in the mirror, he set it on his head and set out to join his family in the ballroom.

Just as he expected, the room was already filled with people by the time he made it downstairs. They must have been waiting in their carriages for the gates to open to all have arrived at the same time and in such huge numbers, but the guards were used to it. People were still filtering in when Minho picked his way through the crowd to join his parents and brother at the head of the room, to sit and observe the guests before the party officially started and he was allowed to join the festivities.

The room was alive with chatter and the musicians on their small stage were playing cheerful music. Minho took a moment to watch his friends play their instruments. They were already past the age of being in school together but as royal musicians employed by the court, they lived at the castle which gave the princes plenty of time to keep up their friendships. 

Finally, after staring into space for what felt like hours, it was time for the royal family to leave their posts as observers and join the party. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Minho whispered to Jeongin in a farewell before they went their separate ways.

“Don’t worry, I’m not that crazy,” Jeongin responded throwing a wink over his shoulder before the brothers disappeared into the crowd.

****

Jisung was excited for the party. What he was not excited for, however, was waking up at the crack of dawn to get ready and then travel for hours to reach the castle nestled in the mountains of the adjacent kingdom. Luckily, his carriage was large enough to hold his two eldest cousins (and best friends) in addition to himself, so he should really count his blessings. As Crown Prince of his own kingdom, he knew he should at least try to get to know his counterpart who lived in the castle he would soon be visiting as they would be kings at the same time, but he just didn’t want the business of running a kingdom to get in the way of his fun night of celebration and dancing.

That is, if he could find someone with whom to dance.

He sighed and sat up in bed, and glared at his window which had already been opened by a servant. The early morning light was already stretching its rays over the sky and throwing itself into Jisung’s eyes and all he wanted was five more minutes of sleep. He closed his eyes and let his head droop forward and was content to stay in that position until noon but was startled awake by a vigorous knocking at his door.

“What is it?” He yelled at the door, his voice cracking from sleep.

“Wake up! Can I come in?” Came the response, in a voice that was unmistakably Chan’s.

Without waiting for a response, he heaved the door open and strode into the room. Jisung tried to throw off his covers and get out of bed but was too slow, as he found himself pinned under Chan, who had flung himself over Jisung in an attempt to wake him up.

“Hey! I’m awake!” Jisung said, muffled by Chan’s arm on his face.

“So? That doesn’t mean I can’t hug my favorite cousin, does it?” He replied, the smile on his face audible in his voice. He sat up, making room for Jisung to do the same, before reaching out and ruffling the boy’s hair. He grimaced, which quickly melted into a laugh. Even first thing in the early morning, he couldn’t stay annoyed at Chan’s affection.

“Okay okay,” Jisung said, playfully shoving the older boy off of his bed. “Your work here is done, now let me get ready.”

Chan stood up, smiled his goofy smile, and bounced out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Nearly an hour later, there was another knock on his door.

“Coming!” He yelled, looking at himself in the mirror one last time before grabbing his crown and rushing to the door. He pulled it open and nearly crashed into Changbin, who was still waiting just outside in the hallway.

“Hey, what’s the rush?” Changbin said, holding Jisung’s shoulders to steady him.

“What do you mean, ‘what’s the rush?’ We have to leave for the party!” The younger boy said, breaking free from his grasp and making his way toward Chan’s door. Before he could knock, the heavy wood was eased open and there Chan stood. His crown was placed effortlessly in his curly hair, and the elaborate jacket fit him perfectly.

“Ooooh, wow, Chan,” Jisung quipped, “Some guy is going to get lucky tonight, eh?”

“Hey, watch it,” Chan said, blushing slightly but still encouraged by the compliment. “You don’t look too bad yourself, kid.”

“Okay, quit the blush-fest over here.” Changbin rolled his eyes and ushered the boys down the hall, keeping them moving toward their carriage.

“You’re just feeling left out,” Jisung said. “Isn’t he, Chan?”

“I think that might be it,” Chan said playfully. “Changbin, you look dashing as always. And you look really good with your hair pushed over like that!”

“Yeah! And the jacket really hugs your muscles well,” Jisung added. “Maybe we’ll all get lucky tonight.”

Despite himself, Changbin blushed at their compliments. “Maybe we will,” he agreed.

****

Realizing that he hadn’t eaten since he and Jeongin stole snacks (what felt like) hours earlier, the first thing Minho did after being relieved of his princely duties was hunt down the refreshment table and scarf down a few appetizers. His mother would never approve of his manner of eating in that moment, but what she didn’t see wouldn’t kill her. He pushed through the crowd, which wasn’t all that hard as he  _ was _ the Crown Prince, and landed in front of the table spread with every kind of finger food he could imagine. He picked up some fried cheese and a few small rolls and popped them in his mouth, letting out a satisfied hum with each mouthful.

After he was relatively fed and thinking a bit clearer, he realized exactly how many people were surrounding him in the usually spacious ballroom. Everywhere he looked there was another princess or nobleman walking, dancing, or talking -- sometimes all three at once -- and he had lost sight of Jeongin as soon as he descended the steps from the platform on which the family had been sitting.

Glancing around, he found a straight shot to the arched doorway at the end of the room, and took his chance, practically sprinting toward the opening. He bumped right into another boy about his age but couldn’t be bothered to turn around and say excuse me, or even sorry. Again, what his mother didn’t know wouldn’t kill her.

Finally out of the oppressively large and swelteringly hot room, Minho took a moment to breathe before deciding to take the stairs that would lead to the balcony overlooking the ballroom. From there he could watch the festivities taking place, but removed from the throngs of people he would have a chance to get his bearings.

From above, Minho was in a perfect position to watch the people below without them noticing. It was a nice way to distract himself from exactly how many people were in the room if he could just focus on one or two of them and make up a story. The first guest he spotted was a woman with long hair that faded from black to a dark blonde. Half of it was curled and the other half was twisted around her head in a pretty but elaborate updo that housed her glittering tiara and accentuated her cheekbones. She was pretty, and wore a floor-length gown that swished while she walked. Minho thought maybe she was walking toward a man who had caught her eye, and maybe she was working up the courage to ask him to dance.

His eyes moved lazily around the room, looking for people to watch, when his gaze landed on a boy about his age wearing a jacket similarly decorated to his own, and who had a small yet tastefully bedazzled crown nestled into his fluffy brown hair. He was surrounded by two other boys, who Minho assumed to be his friends or relatives, and seemed to be looking around for someone. Or maybe he was just taking in the huge room with extravagant decorations. Whatever the case, Minho suddenly found the boy meeting his gaze even from across the crowded ballroom and up onto the balcony. 

Minho was taken aback. Not only was this boy looking him dead in the face; not only was he absolutely beautiful, but Minho could’ve sworn he’d seen the boy before. His features were familiar, but his wide eyes and rounded cheeks were still enough to shock Minho out of one reverie and into a new one. He never wanted to look away from this boy. Now that he was looking at more than just the top of his head, he could see that the shimmering white of his jacket and rich gold ornamental buttons and ropes brought out his dark features and made his brown eyes look like drops of sunlight. The cut of the jacket combined with his intricately decorated epaulettes brought attention to his broad shoulders, and Minho didn’t even want to  _ think _ about the expression he wore on his face.

It was as if the boy was experiencing the same shock that was running through Minho’s mind. His eyes were rounded and his eyebrows were slightly raised, and his mouth was open just enough so Minho could see a hint of his teeth. The sight became too much for Minho to handle. Without thinking of anything but escape, he booked it down the stairs of the balcony and raced through a few hallways where he knew he would find a hidden terrace that looked over the royal gardens.

Out of breath, Minho rested his forearms on the railing. He stared out toward the horizon where the sun was beginning to set. Despite the hallways he had put between himself and the ballroom -- and the specific boy within the ballroom -- he could still hear the band’s music and the distant rumble of chatter. Try as he might, Minho couldn’t get the boy’s beautiful, awe-struck face out of his mind. Every thought he had was somehow brought back to the prince in white and gold. Before long, he gave up trying to stop the thoughts from coming, and went so far as to imagine what it would feel like to remove the crown from atop his head and card his fingers through his soft hair.

He noticed that the music coming from the ballroom slowed down to a festive waltz, and he couldn’t help but sway to the music. Maybe one of the only things he truly liked about being a member of the royal family was the opportunity it granted him to learn to dance. He loved moving around the floor in sweeping movements and melting into the music that filled his practice room. 

Before he knew it, his sways turned into steps which turned into a full waltz, save for the lack of partner. Minho closed his eyes and his mind made up for the missing companion by filling in a familiar face, and yet one he had seen for the first time just minutes before. He guided his imaginary partner around the terrace in a smooth but simple waltz, and could practically feel the boy’s warm hand and the muscles beneath his coat. He knew that if he opened his eyes the boy would disappear, so he settled on imagining how beautiful his jacket’s gold details would look in the setting sun and how blinding his smile would be as they moved in time across the stone floor. Minho opened his arms so his partner could twirl away, and pulled him back in so his back would be against his chest and they could just sway for a while. Minho couldn’t tell exactly how tall the other boy was from his view on the balcony but he imagined the soft hair at the back of his head would tickle his cheek as they stood, arms wrapped around each other, hands clasped, swaying to the soft melody and watching the sun throw pinks and oranges across the sky.

Too soon, though, the music drifting onto the terrace picked up its pace. Minho sighed and opened his eyes, startled to find the sun already completely set and the stars starting to show themselves. He realized with a jolt that dinner would be starting soon -- if not already -- so he raced back through the castle to the dining room.

He found his seat near his family (thank goodness the mystery prince was seated what seemed like miles away at the other end of the long table) and started to eat. The guests surrounding him at the table were eager to make conversation about how soon he would be King and how much he’d grown since they had last visited, but Minho wanted none of it. He ate mostly in silence, nodding and humming absently while thinking about his imagined dance with the boy in gold. 

Halfway through his plate, Jeongin kicked him twice under the table, a signal to excuse himself so they could talk. He removed his napkin from his lap and placed it on the table, bowing slightly and gesturing toward the door. Jeongin followed a few moments later.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked, once the two were out of earshot. Seungmin, the brothers’ guard and one of their best friends in the castle, accompanied them in the hall.

“What do you mean?” Minho said, avoiding the answer by asking another question.

“We mean,” Seungmin started, “that you disappeared for the first dances-”

“And you’re being super quiet during dinner.” Jeongin said.

“What, like I’m not quiet all the time?” Minho countered, leaning against the wall.

“Well no,” Seungmin said, “but you just usually offer more than a disjointed ‘mhmm’ when Hyunjin asks if you’ve been seeing anyone special lately.”

“Yeah, it’s usually more of a ‘Psshh!  _ No! _ Of course not!’” Jeongin said, doing a very exaggerated impression of his older brother.

“Actually, that’s the one question that usually shakes you from your stupor,” Seungmin said with an accusatory tone.

“Now that you mention it,” Jeongin said, tapping his chin and raising an eyebrow, “Seungmin’s right. Where was the immediate denial?”

All Minho could do was stare at the boys and open and close his mouth. He gave up, and decided to tell them about the mystery boy. He didn’t realize he was rambling until Jeongin interrupted him.

“Woah, calm down, Minho,” he said, touching his arm. “Have you considered talking to him? Maybe figure out, I don’t know, his name?”

Minho rolled his eyes at his brother, but still smiled. “Maybe I will.”

****

Jisung’s trance was broken when the beautiful young man at whom he had been staring disappeared from the balcony. He hadn’t noticed Chan trying to get his attention, and snapped back to reality to see a hand poised above his cheek.

“I- were you going to  _ slap _ me?” Jisung asked, incredulous.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Chan said, causing Jisung to balk at his cousin, “but I didn’t!”

“And why exactly were you considering such extreme measures?”

“Kid, you should’ve seen yourself. You looked like a zombie. Like a really pretty, stupefied, lovesick zombie-”

“-okay, chill-”

“-and you don’t even know the guy you spent, like, 3 whole minutes staring at.”

“I’m sorry, ‘guy’ doesn’t cut it-”

Chan silenced the younger prince with a wave of his hand. “I don’t care what ‘cuts it.’ My point is that you just stared into this stranger’s eyes for a rather long time-”

“But he’s not a stranger though.” The quiet response caught Chan off guard. “I feel like, I don’t know, like I’ve seen him before.”

“Well yeah, he’s the Crown Prince of this castle, you must’ve seen him at some Crown Princely duties. You seem to forget you two are on the same tier.”

“That’s not what I mean. He- I just-”

“Okay, come here,” Chan said, taking Jisung’s arm and leading him out of the crowded and noisy ballroom. On the way out, they passed Changbin talking to a quite blond, rather freckled, and very beautiful trumpet player. Chan waved at his other cousin and pointed to Jisung and then to the large arch that lead to a series of hallways. Changbin nodded, mouthed ‘good luck,’ and turned his attention back to the musician.

Once in the hall, Chan found a bench and invited Jisung to sit beside him. 

“So, what’s this about having seen him before?”

“I- it’s more than just having  _ seen _ him before. I feel like I already know him, like we’ve met and are friends but I just can’t remember  _ how _ .”

“Is this a bad thing?” Chan asked softly, so Jisung could gather his thoughts.

“Well, kinda,” the younger prince started. “I honestly don’t know how to explain it. Feeling like I already know him makes me want to get to know him... more. Not ‘more’ as in wanting to know more about him. It’s like I want to know him so badly but...”

“But you can’t?” Chan offered.

“Yeah. He’s just so  _ perfect _ .” Jisung closed his eyes. “I like,  _ really _ want to dance with him.”

“Maybe after dinner you can talk to him and ask?” Jisung’s eyes flew open and stared right at Chan.

“Are you insane?”

“I... no? I don’t think so.” Jisung didn’t look convinced. “I mean, you were there. You both stared into each other’s goddamn  _ souls _ for a solid three minutes. It’s like you were magnets that couldn’t be forced apart.”

“You were making sense for like, two seconds and now I’m lost again,” Jisung said.

“All I’m saying is, you two clearly have a connection. Maybe after dinner you can try and talk to him? You know, after you’ve eaten, so we can rule out starvation as the cause of your anxiety.”

Jisung didn’t know how he did it, but Chan always said the right thing at just the right time. Calm, even if just for a moment, Jisung leaned his head on Chan’s shoulder, careful to keep the points of his crown away from the elder’s face.

“Thanks,” Jisung said. 

Chan didn’t ask him to elaborate. He didn’t have to.

 

The two boys returned to the ballroom just in time for a waltz to turn into a quickstep and for dinner to begin. They met up with Changbin who waved goodbye to the trumpet player and joined them to sit at the table. Chan and Jisung filled their cousin on the matter at hand, still wildly gesticulating when a hush fell over the room. Jisung followed the collective gaze of the partygoers to see that the Crown Prince had just sat down at his seat, all the way at the other end of the table. He looked distracted and Jisung was worried.

The dinner conversation picked up around them while Jisung and the others speculated over what could be causing the other boy so much distress.

“Maybe he’s gassy,” Chan said, nudging Jisung in an attempt to get him to laugh.

“I doubt it,” Changbin said, stifling a laugh, “he’s probably just overwhelmed by the party. Look how many people are trying to talk to him at once.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” Jisung agreed.

“Unless...” Chan started, wiggling his eyebrows at Jisung, “maybe he’s hung up on thinking about you.”

Jisung almost choked on the sip of water he was attempting to swallow, and glared at Chan. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Prince get up and leave the room, closely followed by his little brother and someone who appeared to be a guard.

“They’ll probably have whatever it is taken care of,” Jisung sighed, getting back to his plate of deliciously roasted meat and freshly baked bread.

****

After dinner, Minho found himself back in the ballroom, idly hanging out with Jeongin, Seungmin, and Hyunjin but mostly watching the crowd to find the other prince. Countless people had asked him to dance, and countless times Minho replied with some ideration of ‘not now, maybe later.’ He had no intention of dancing with any of them at any point during the night, and only had plans to dance with one person in the whole ballroom.

Nearly an hour crawled by, and the kitchen staff were busy replacing the pre-dinner finger foods with a vast array of desserts in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Nearly every person in the room under the age of 25 was pulled toward the tables in a herd and Minho wished he was back up in the balcony for a better view. Seungmin had already convinced him to stay in the lower level so he could have an easy path once he located the prince.

It was a good thing Seungmin always thought ahead because just then, Minho saw him. The boy in the stunning white jacket and delicate crown was standing right in his line of sight, with his back to him. Before Minho’s confidence could crumble, he asked Jeongin to wish him luck, and he strode off toward the prince.

Minho placed his hand lightly on the boy’s upper arm, inadvertently startling him but still succeeding in catching his attention. The prince whipped around with a look of confusion on his face that was quickly replaced by flat-out awe. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times while a small smile grew on Minho’s lips. He tried to ask the boy for his name, but when he didn’t receive a response within a couple of beats, he grabbed his hand to lead him to a quieter place.

The only place Minho could think of to bring him was the terrace where he’d fled after first seeing the other prince. This time though, the stars were fully out and shining, accompanied by a full moon and a few decorative candle-lit lamps around the terrace.

“Okay, let me try again,” Minho said, softly as to not disturb the perfect moment. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Han. Han Jisung,” the prince said, still a bit shaken.

“Nice to finally talk to you, Jisung,” Minho replied, bowing slightly. Jisung laughed softly at that. “My name’s Minho.”

Jisung repeated Minho’s name in a whisper before meeting his eyes again. He blushed.

“Why are you so nervous?” Minho took Jisung’s hand in his own.

“I- you- I just-” Jisung stuttered. “I don’t want to mess this up?”

“How could you  _ possibly _ mess it up?” 

“Well, I could make a fool out of myself, or I could trip on the stone floor, or I could set my hair on fire on one of those torches, or-”

“Or you could become a rambling mess?” Minho said teasingly, in an attempt to lighten the mood. Jisung laughed softly again. (Minho did all he could not to completely crumble with the sound.)

“Yeah, but that seems to have already happened, no thanks to you.” Jisung broke eye contact, trying to fight the blush creeping over face.

“You are even prettier up close,” Minho murmured. Jisung practically melted. “You would think for someone so familiar, I wouldn’t be this entranced.”

“I feel the same way,” admitted the other prince, meeting Minho’s eye again.

As if on cue, the music from the ballroom shifted into a slow and dreamy waltz. Minho carefully placed the hand he’d been holding on his own shoulder, rested his left hand on Jisung’s waist, and took the other hand in his so they were poised to dance. 

“May I?” Minho didn’t trust himself to ask in a voice louder than a whisper.

“Of course,” Jisung breathed, and they began.

Minho lead them in slow but precise steps around the terrace, breathing in the night air and basking in the sight in front of him. The two boys never broke eye contact, lost in the moment but still so connected to each other. They swung around in turn after turn, moving almost as one being around their private dance floor. The silver on Minho’s jacket glinted in the moonlight and the gold on Jisung’s glimmered in the torchlight, but all either boy could see was the face of his partner, eyes bright and wearing matching soft smiles.

Replicating the move from his daydream earlier that evening, Minho opened his arms so Jisung could spin away, and reeled him in so his back was pressed against his chest. They stood like that, simply tilting back and forth to the beat of the music. Minho shivered slightly despite the warm night, and Jisung squeezed his hands.

They stood for what felt like hours, Jisung taking in the view of the royal gardens and drinking in the warmth radiating off of the boy pressed into his back. Minho breathed in Jisung’s scent -- warm and sweet -- and supported him as he leaned back, just barely, just enough for Minho to realize what was happening. He blushed, enjoying the feeling of having someone to support, if only for a moment.

The song slipped from the dreamy waltz into something slightly more upbeat, but that didn’t stop the princes from continuing to sway softly on the terrace. Suddenly, Jisung rose from his slight slouch and turned around, blushing immediately upon seeing Minho’s content but mildly surprised expression.

“Yes?” Minho said.

“I- nevermind.”

“No, please, I want to hear it,” he encouraged.

“W- would you kiss me?” Jisung asked, simply but so perfectly. 

Minho couldn’t do anything but nod. He brought his hands to either side of Jisung’s face and brushed his thumbs over his cheeks. Jisung’s eyes fluttered shut and Minho brought their lips together. Jisung’s arms wrapped around Minho’s torso, bringing them closer. One of Minho’s hands slid behind the other prince’s head, holding him steady while their mouths moved against each other. They separated only for a moment, a moment in which their eyes met and each of them could see the fondness and affection for the other. It was a look so familiar they couldn’t help but reconnect their lips to continue the kiss. Minho felt emotions wash over him like a tidal wave, and felt Jisung’s scent and taste pulling him deeper like the most powerful rip current. They separated again, and neither boy could tell who did it, but Jisung spoke.

“I just can’t believe I’m kissing you,” he whispered, their foreheads pressed together and eyes still shut softly.

“I can’t believe you asked,” Minho replied, a silly but endearing grin on his face. Jisung couldn’t see it, but he could hear it in his tone.

It didn’t matter, really; the future held plenty of opportunities for the princes -- soon to be Kings -- to see each other smile.

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello! this is my third stray kids fanfic but my first where the entire group shows up! it is also my longest single-chaptered work e v e r and i am absolutely dead.  
> during the writing process i burned through two (2) candles and ate about seventeen (17) spearmint leaf candies in one sitting & if that doesnt tell you my current mental state then idk what will. but this was so much fun! i know i constantly promise extensions and bonus chapters and stuff but i really fell in love with this au so i might make a series consisting of what the other pairings were up to during the party [insert that thinking emoji with the hand on his face and eyebrows raised here] you know the one.  
> anyway! comments and kudos make me grin (and sometimes cry a little) so feel free to show some love in the comments below~ you can follow me on tumblr at gaymumbling.tumblr.com and on my sideblog at hyunjjins.tumblr.com  
> until next time!! love u stays uwu


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